


Silent Tears

by QuickSilverFox3



Series: Whumptober 2019 [14]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arya Leaves With Jaqen, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Faceless Arya, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hurt No Comfort, Pre-Relationship, Whumptober 2019, travelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-17 04:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21048023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickSilverFox3/pseuds/QuickSilverFox3
Summary: Jaqen grinned, a flicker of his true smile peaking through in the lopsided tilt of it. She was a constant source of surprise, Arya Stark.(#014 Tear-Stained)





	Silent Tears

**Author's Note:**

> [ My Tumblr!](https://inkformyblood.tumblr.com) Requests are always welcome!

A man was many things, but stupid wasn't one of them. He was Jaqen H'ghar now, would be Jaqen for as long as a girl wished him to be. A girl by the name of Arya Stark for now.

Jaqen scratched at the stubble on his cheek, having pulled the Lorathi's face back on when he noticed Arya shying away from him. Not enough for her to even notice, the tiniest shift in her posutre but Jaqen did. And it hurt. Hurt in a way he was unfamiliar with, hurt in the depths of the heart he pretended he didn't have. It was fascinating in a way, old emotions long since buried since a man became No-One. And a girl liked his Lorathi face, the face of a man dead twice over now, and once by her own doing.

He grinned, a flicker of his true smile peaking through in the lopsided tilt of it. She was a constant source of surprise, Arya Stark. A tiny slip of a girl, hair cropped short enough to pass as a boy, luxuritating in that small freedom even in the midst of her enemy's fortress and yet... She was compassionate enough to rescue criminals from the flames, aware in a way that most highborn ladies were not, of the danger she was putting herself in. And clever enough to trap a Faceless Man in his own words.

A girl did not sleep, not yet. Her half cracked eyes flashed tawny in the firelight and, unbidden, an old memory rose in a man’s mind.

“You have dragon eyes,” his mother whispered, or at least the woman he had believed was his mother. She was long dead now, coughed out the last of her life on the floor of the House of Black and White, paid the ultimate price so that the boy who would be Jaqen would be safe. Jaqen slept that night curled up in the cooling arms of the woman who raised him, scarf wrapped tightly around his head. His fingers brushed over it now, sewn into a small pouch at his neck.

A small sniffle, the sound almost masked by the crackling of the fire, brought him back, Death's cold fingers tracing down his spine.

Wait, They seemed to say, Watch.

Jaqen let himself slip into a facade of sleep, his breaths slowing and deepening, pouch held in one hand. His heartbeat echoed in his ears, the steady pulse almost luring him into true sleep before a girl moved.

Arya Stark poked her head out from beneath a man's stolen cloak, the very cloak she had refused to take until her teeth were chattering and the tips of her fingers were white with cold. Jaqen had dumped it over her head finally. The cold did not bother a man after a while.

Arya stared at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion as she rubbed her thumb over the coin a man had given her.

"Cersei Lannister, Joffrey Baratheon, Ilyn Payne," she whispered, before her voice cracked, tears spilling down her cheeks, "T-the Mountain, Sandor Clegane."

Her list continied, interpersed with muffled sobs until Arya Stark fell asleep, curled up in a dead man's cloak. Jaqen opened his eyes, surprised to find his own cheeks were wet. A girl was special, this he knew. Hopefully she would survive to find out exactly how special she was.


End file.
